


Natural Light: The Photographer's Friend

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Cock Rings, Exhaustion, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2167875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Merlin kink meme. Arthur is a photographer, and one of his favourite subjects is Merlin: Merlin is photographed best of all when Arthur is inside him, and Arthur takes advantage of this fact in a hotel room one morning. Explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Light: The Photographer's Friend

It is just past dawn, and the light filters in through the windows where the curtains are thrown wide, golden light bright on the carpet. Arthur can feel it on his thighs, and no doubt Merlin feels it warmest of all on his back.

Arthur adjusts the aperture, bringing the other man properly into focus, and he takes shot after shot from his position on his back: Merlin’s cock, bouncing between his legs with just the slightest hint of  _blur_  that proves the motion, the dusting of hair down the other man’s stomach, his nipples, pink and hard, and Merlin’s  _face_ , Merlin’s chin, Merlin’s head thrown back with his parted lips and closed-tight eyes.

Merlin in  _ecstasy_  as he rides Arthur’s cock, and he doesn’t even  _notice_  the camera, let alone look down at it and ruin the shot.

—-

Merlin is laid across Arthur’s chest, now, and the rolls down of his hips are slow, and the noises he makes are quiet coos – he’s always so  _quiet_  in bed, never quite ready to force speech from his lips. His hands are on Arthur’s chest, and Arthur snaps each new photo of the way Merlin’s body looks atop Arthur’s, of the way his arse is illuminated by the light through the window and the way their legs are tangled together.

With the other man on top of him he can’t take every shot he’d like, not from this angle, but that will soon change.

—-

The sun has risen properly now, and the light is brighter than ever – two alarms have gone off for them to get up, each silenced by a wave of Merlin’s magic fingers.

Merlin is on his back, and he is  _sobbing_  as Arthur continues to thrust, and there is come marked on his belly; his skin shines all over with sweat.

Arthur has adjusted their angle three times now so that his shadow doesn’t hide Merlin – blast the window for being  _behind_  him when he has Merlin on the edge of the bed like this. Next time, he’ll request that the hotel bed is  _right_ by the window.

Merlin  _undulates_  beneath him, and Arthur can feel the hot clench of the damned wizard around his cock, and every time he shifts his head to the side the sunlight hits him in a new and more bewitching way, and Arthur takes another photograph.

—-

It’s an hour before noon.

Merlin’s on his belly, now, legs spread and hands flat on the bed – he’s not on his hands and knees, because when Arthur’s been having him for this long the effort of pushing himself up is too much, and instead he sprawls, lets Arthur take him.

But here,  _here_ , Arthur can take each and every angle of the other’s spine as he thrusts his hips back for more of  _Arthur_  inside him, see the curve of the white flesh of his arse around Arthur’s cock, commit everything to film so that he can keep it forever and ever.

Merlin’s right hand raises, and weakly he taps twice on the bedspread beneath him.

Arthur pulls out, unclipping the ring at the base of his cock and jerking himself a few times: his come paints Merlin’s back, and with that more photos must be taken.

The angles of the other’s spine, the curve of his arse, the way the white is slick on the skin and drips down to the wet cleft below:  _all_  must be recorded. Arthur’s never been known for his meticulous nature, but when it comes to enjoying this  _prat_?

He feels no shame for being so particular.

“You are, ah, such a  _clot._ ” Merlin says tiredly, and the “ah” is a punctuated sigh as he lies still, waiting for Arthur to set his camera aside and fetch a flannel wet with warm water from the bathroom.

“Not a clot _pole_? Oh, Merlin, seems I’m not performing well enough.” Arthur retorts, teasingly, and the cloth is slow on the smaller man’s skin, gentle. Arthur can be gentle, when he chooses, just as he can be rough.

“Don’t want to think about poles right now, Arthur.” Merlin says, and he lets Arthur flip him onto his back again, as easily as if Merlin were a doll. He’s too _thin_ , Arthur thinks. He ought get the man to put some weight on. “My arse hurts just thinkng about it.”

“Oh, you don’t want anything phallic, then? Well, I  _was_  going to call for breakfast, Merlin, but if you can’t handle a sausage or two-”

“Call for breakfast.” Merlin says, in a firm but  _completely_  exhausted voice as Arthur washes over his thighs. “Else I won’t be handling any sausages ever again. For camera or no.” Arthur laughs at that, and then he leans, pressing his lips to Merlin’s and taking the kiss from him. Merlin hums against the larger man’s mouth, arches his back, and when he falls back it’s with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Thinking of breakfast?” Merlin nods, and Arthur laughs again before moving to pick up the hotel phone. 


End file.
